


Almost Birthday

by nightdrive



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Children, F/M, HP: EWE, Married Couple, Married Life, POV Alternating, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Ginny Weasley, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightdrive/pseuds/nightdrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy and his wife have been sailing ships for the past few days. It’s finally his off and the day before his 35th birthday. With his wife out of town on a business trip, she leaves him a list of things to do while at home with their three kids. Can he handle three wacky children on his own? Fluffy one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all original characters, places, ideas belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and whoever else owns them. Any references to TV/films/movies will be references at the end of the chapter (if any). Anything else that looks familiar is likely not mine. This will be a sweeping disclaimer for all chapters. Please don’t sue, I don’t own anything… because if I did, I wouldn’t be here!
> 
> This is just a fun, fluffy one-shot in honor of Draco Malfoy's 35th birthday! Happy Birthday, Draco! <3

Draco Malfoy rolled over on the enormous bed he was solely inhabiting in a futile attempt to drown out his alarm, only to hear an odd crumpling noise. He rolled onto his back, only to realize the crumpling noise was following him. Peeking through bleary eyes, he saw beige. Someone had stuck a piece of parchment onto his forehead, and it only took one guess as to who would do such a thing. 

Clumsily, he threw out an arm and blindly reached for his wand, but not before knocking over the chirping alarm clock and inadvertently silencing it. Blindly waving the wand around his face, the parchment fell into his lap. With a quick _Reparo_ , the alarm clock sat neatly back on the nightstand, as if it hadn’t hit the floor minutes ago. 

Draco blinked rapidly a few times before his vision became clear, allowing him to focus on the parchment now in his hands, written in neat, rounded script: 

_Will be home late tonight. I barely heard you get in last night so I hope you caught up on your beauty sleep. Merlin knows you’ll be a right grouch if you don’t…_

“I am not,” he muttered in irritation. 

_While you’re grumbling, don’t forget to get these things done today:_  
\- Take Cecelia to Magical Menagerie, because it’s your fault she wants to get a ginormous cat. You get to deal with telling her that’s too much to take on. Suggest a practical owl.  
\- Lucas has swimming class in the afternoon  
\- Lyra has a Mummy and Me class at the same time  
\- Make sure the kids’ rooms are clean today because we’ll be having guests tomorrow  
\- Get started on the laundry 

I’ll be checking in later today to see how you’re doing. Try not to let Lyra have too many sweets – she is clearly taking after you. Hopefully we’ll try to catch each other tonight. 

Love,  
Gin

Draco gave the message a once over before he crumpled it up into a ball and chucked into the fireplace that was on the other side of the room. He watched as the flames devoured the blackening paper before he threw off the heavy comforter to get dressed for the day. 

It wasn’t that he was ignoring his wife’s instructions; there was just too much happening on that parchment. He would just have to make some adjustments, he decided. Since when did children have that much to do anyway? Draco wondered. Each one of them were already set on their own schedules; he couldn’t remember having this much to do before he started Hogwarts. 

He ran a comb into his silver-blond locks, which were beginning to grey near his temples. His face was still pointed and angular, reminiscent of his father’s, though it carried more of the warmth that had resurfaced on his mother’s face since the war had ended. 

Before Draco left the room, he stuck his wand in the pocket of his trousers and walked down the corridor to wake up the kids. He was surprised to find that they were more than ready and awake. Their doors were wide open and he could hear Lucas’ building blocks stacking against each other, as if they were truly made of bricks, from the playroom downstairs. Though, Draco realized, it was a little past ten in the morning and had probably been waiting for breakfast for at least twenty minutes. That late night Flooing from a transatlantic business trip to New York had really messed with his internal clock. 

Draco peeked into the bedroom that was painted a light teal and saw his daughter, Cecelia, curled up on the window seat of the large bay window which faced the backyard and opened up to a small balcony with a table for two. Her large bed was unmade, and there were clothes and magazines strewn across the room. The broomstick they had bought last year was laying in the middle of her room in front of her large white writing desk. A stack of books sat untouched on the table top, a combination of books that Draco and his father had given her shortly after receiving her Hogwarts letter. Hung up on the wall was a large photograph of the entire Holyhead Harpies team of 2004, with a small blonde child in a matching uniform cradled by a grinning redhead. Ginny continued to play Quidditch professionally until after their second child was born. It was no wonder that Cecelia had been so taken with Quidditch: she had spent a large amount of her early life around Quidditch Pitches. 

“CeCe, have you started on your summer reading yet?” Draco asked, nodding to the stack of brand new books. 

“Da-ad, it’s only been a week since I got my Hogwarts letter! I have the whole summer!” Cecelia proclaimed, turning her attention away from the parchment she was intently scribbling on to look at him. Her shoulder length blonde hair was darker than his, similar to his mother’s. Though her face was sharp like his, she looked much more like Ginny, down to the large brown eyes, freckles, and petite frame. There was little doubt in his mind that she would grow up to look very similar to her mother. 

“A week wasted,” Draco replied, walking towards the bed and quickly tidied it with an easy flourish of his wand before sitting down. “Malfoys are always at the top of their class.” 

Cecelia got up, carrying the parchment and quill with her to the desk. She turned around to face her father, wrapping an arm around the back of the chair. 

“You weren’t,” she pointed out with a smirk. “That was Aunt Hermione.”

Draco couldn’t decide if it was his own snarkiness that had come back to bite him in the arse or if it was his wife’s sassy streak. Either way, Cecelia had always kept him on his toes. 

“So, you want to be like your lazy, inept father? At least pick a better excuse,” Draco replied with his own customary smirk, deciding to change tactics. 

“Okay, fine,” she said slowly, nearly whinging, before turning back to the parchment in front of her. “I’ll do it in a little bit.” 

Draco bent forward, craning his neck to see just what she was doing at the desk over there. The kids had a couple of weeks off from their tutors, and had little homework to do in the interim. “Just what are you doing this very moment that you can’t begin your studies, Cecelia?”

“I’m writing letters,” Cecelia replied over her shoulder.

“To whom?”

“My friends.”

“Which friends?” Draco pressed, getting slightly impatient. Since when was it so difficult to get information from her? Normally she was a chatterbox, unable to quiet down.

“You don’t know hi—I mean, them,” she answered too quickly, trying to cover her mistake. 

Draco’s eyes narrowed at that. He knew all of her friends. Outside of the millions of Weasleys, there were the Potters, the Zabinis, the Longbottoms, the Notts, and some of the local Muggle children that lived nearby. His parents would probably frown at that, but Draco had eventually realized that they weren’t really all that bad. That was Ginny’s persistent doing, of course. 

Wait a minute… Cecelia was about to say ‘him’, wasn’t she? Draco’s slate eyes widened at this realization. 

“Who is ‘he’?” Draco asked innocently. 

“What?” Cecelia responded, her voice becoming an octave higher as she whipped her head around, bright pink splotches appearing on her cheeks. 

“You are writing to a boy, aren’t you?” He deduced smugly, folding his arms over his chest. _Ha!_ Draco thought. _You can’t pull the wool over Dad’s eyes!_

“M-Maybe,” Cecelia stuttered, her eyes darting around the room, unable to rest on his. 

“CeCe,” Draco warned, not for the first time since becoming a parent sounding like his father. “You know the rules; you aren’t allowed to date at this age.” 

His daughter gaped at him with an utterly flabbergasted expression on her face. “What?!” She sputtered, her face now flushing that familiar Weasley red. “That’s not even a rule! You just made that up!” 

Draco stared at her solemnly, unwilling to back down. Perhaps he did just make that up. She had just taken him by surprise, that’s all. Normally, he was calm and collected with his kids, ready to hear them out, something his own father didn’t always do. 

“Fine, at what age, can I?” Cecelia broke in, interrupting Draco’s thoughts. She was now standing in front of him expectantly with her hands on her hips, doing a fantastic impression of both her Grandmothers Weasley and Malfoy. 

“Seventy four,” Draco answered, pulling the number out of thin air. 

“WHAT?!” Cecelia gasped. “That’s totally unfair! MUM went to the Yule Ball at 13!” 

Draco groaned inwardly. His wife. The one that did what she wanted, especially when someone told her not to. And she was going to make him pay for his overreaction. 

Unable to win this discussion at this moment, he stood up to check on his other daughter. He stepped over and enveloped Cecelia in a hug, who remained stubborn and stiff while folding her arms across her chest. Eventually, she relaxed and wrapped her arms around him. 

Giving her a kiss on the head, Draco said, “We’ll discuss this when your mother comes home. Go on downstairs and set the table for breakfast. And next time, wake up Dad so you won’t starve, okay?” 

Cecelia laughed and made her way downstairs, her letter to her crush forgotten. Draco sighed with relief as he headed over to the room adjacent to the master bedroom. Though he was relieved he didn’t have to have a conversation about boys at this very moment, inside, he was still freaking out. In the course of several weeks, it felt like his sweet little princess had become a snarky pre-teen. When did that happen? No one informed him of this in the father handbook. 

Draco opened the door to the nursery that each of their children had stayed in, currently inhabited by their youngest, Lyra. The walls were bathed in light grey, warmed up by the yellow accents and the sun peeking through the marigold curtains. His head turned to the white crib with a levitating mobile of broomsticks above it. They had kept the room neutral in color on purpose, Ginny not wanting her daughter having to grow up in a pink, frilly room like she did. While she loved it when she was a little girl, eventually it became too childish for her liking, and it still looked just the same at the Burrow today. 

Draco had expected to see his smiling daughter in her crib. Instead, the pale yellow blanket was pushed back and she was nowhere to be seen. His eyes widened in a panic and immediately shifted to the large cloud that hovered next to the bed. Though it illuminated the room at night with its comforting glow, it acted as a baby monitor. If something had truly gone wrong while he was asleep, the matching, smaller floating cloud in the master room would have darkened and made crashing, thunderous noises alerting them that something was not right. 

But the cloud stood there primly in its fluffy, white disposition. He heard a noise and turned to the left, and saw a familiar face light up and beam up at him. Draco sighed with relief. Kneeling down, he gently picked up his daughter and began to get her ready for the day. 

It only seemed like yesterday that she had been born. Hell, it seemed like yesterday that each of their children had entered their lives. But sixteen months had passed already, and Ginny was fully back to work. No doubt she was probably distracted on her business trip in Cardiff, covering the Holyhead Harpies’ annual fundraising gala before summer training as Senior Quidditch Correspondent for _The Daily Prophet_. Though their house was only an hour or two away, this was Ginny’s first big assignment since Lyra was born.

With a simple charm, Lyra’s strawberry blonde hair was styled into two adorable pigtails. Her blue-grey eyes crinkled while babbled jovially as he straightened the green sundress she was now wearing. Ginny no doubt would be rolling her eyes over his not so subtle attempt at indoctrinating their daughter into Slytherin, but he would argue that he was also indoctrinating her into supporting the Holyhead Harpies, as green was one of their team colors. 

Lyra giggled as Draco scooped her into his arms and they headed downstairs. With each child it felt like time was going by faster and faster. He still remembered how Lyra was born with a full head of vibrant pink hair, and everyone was mystified at the outcome. Was she a Metamorphmagus, like his cousin? Did this trait run in the family? Instead, it turned out to be some strange combination of her parents’ genes, and with time the brilliant shade of pink faded to strawberry blonde. 

Draco walked into the brightly lit kitchen to see his older two children playing Gobstones at the kitchen table. He settled Lyra into her high chair and turned to the rest of them, just in time to see Lucas get sprayed with the putrid liquid from the Gobstones marble. Cecelia laughed triumphantly and Lyra joined in, shrieking in delight. Draco struggled to keep his face straight as he waved his wand to clean up his disgruntled son. Lucas was a tall boy for a six year old, similar to how Draco was. Lucas’ grey eyes looked up gratefully at his father who ruffled his ginger hair in return. Though Lucas’ face wasn’t as angular as Draco’s, he had inherited the Black family haughty good looks. 

“All right,” Draco began, rubbing his hands against each other. “Now, what should we have for breakfast? Or rather, brunch?” 

“A quiche,” Cecelia suggested. 

“Or a frittata,” Lucas added, setting the game aside. 

He looked at his children quizzically. Who did they think he was, some master chef? 

“And when was the last time you two ate a quiche or a frittata?” Draco asked with a quirked eyebrow, a small smile on his face. 

“Remember?” Cecelia reminded Draco. “Before we came home from Quidditch camp last weekend, we spent the day at Grandmother’s. We had brunch with all of her friends. It was so fancy! We drank our tee with our pinkies up and everything!”

Of course his mother was always trying to introduce them to the finer things in life. Narcissa Malfoy took every opportunity she could to have her grandchildren over and spend time with them. Sometimes Draco wondered if she was attempting to make up for the times she wasn’t able to do it for Draco because of his family’s entanglement with the Dark Lord. Surprisingly, the war had brought his family closer, as they truly began to realize what was truly important in their lives: each other. 

“Well, I don’t think we have enough time for either of those, so how about some scrambled eggs and bacon?” Draco suggested. They both nodded their head eagerly and Draco summoned all of the ingredients to the stove. The toast levitated into the toaster and the metal contraption patiently warmed them up. The toaster was a gift from his father-in-law, thanks to his hobby of taking apart Muggle objects. Much like that flying car he had heard so much about, the toaster had been charmed to work for witches and wizards. 

Once the eggs were in the frying pan and the bacon was sizzling, Draco attempted to cook the food as best as he could with his wand. Cooking charms had never been his forte, and it was times like this that he wished they still had house elves. Ginny had been a staunch supporter of S.P.E.W., and had succeeded in forbidding any house elves from serving in their house. On certain occasions they employed them for their services, but it was done the fair way: by paying for it. Draco sighed wistfully until the food looked done and transferred them to plates. The toast shot out of the machine and magically landed onto the plate. With glasses of orange juice, he levitated everyone’s meals over to the table. 

They ate in peace, the children chattering to themselves, and Draco every so often contributed. It was so nice to have lunch which is children on a weekday with the sun shining through the many windows of his house. Every so often, he turned to help Lyra, who seemed intent on creating a yellow painting with her eggs on the high chair tray rather than bringing the food to her mouth. 

As soon as brunch was done with, and it was over pretty quickly since everyone was quite hungry, the dishes were levitated to the kitchen sink. While they were magically being brushed and soaked in suds, Lucas couldn’t help but remark, “Dad, the eggs were a little oily. Why aren’t they fluffy like Mum’s?” 

“Because,” Draco replied, not missing a beat, “today we’re doing things Dad’s way.” _Well, sort of,_ he thought to himself. He still had to get the chores done on the list. Whenever they tag teamed, it was up to the parent at home to get things done. 

“So, the faster you guys clean up your rooms and I get the laundry out of the way, we can spend the rest of the afternoon outside, got it?” Draco explained. 

The kids cheered, as did Lyra, before they jumped out of their seats and ran up the stairs. He picked up his daughter and they followed the other children slowly upstairs. Her eyes were getting heavy and she rested her head on his shoulder. Though she was growing bigger, she still needed naps to get through the day. At least he could count on someone still needing him.

&&&&&&&

Once Draco had put his daughter down for a nap and brought all of the laundry down to the basement where the laundry room was, he got down to work. While separating clothes, he formulated his action plan for the rest of the day. There was no way he was going to take Cecelia to the pet shop by himself. She would just have to look at him with her doe eyes and Draco would easily give in. Ginny may be able to do it, but he would probably give in and end up with a snake or a ferret or something equally ghastly. Draco knew he had boxed himself into a corner when he said CeCe could have a cat, but the earnest and excited look on her face easily wore him down. He had just gotten caught up in the excitement of her Hogwarts letter finally arriving. The only thing that brought him back to reality was Ginny’s grim face staring him down behind CeCe’s jumping dance. 

No, he would just delay it for another day, Draco decided. Then there was Lucas, who needed to go to swimming lessons. But he had had several lessons by now, and could just doggy paddle in the pond in the backyard. After all, what the hell else did he pay for to get his backyard dug up? And, there was absolutely no way in hell he was going to a Mommy and Me class. He didn’t care about being the only man in the class with a group full of mothers, it was just the cheesy activities that got to him. No, today would just be Daddy and She at home.

&&&&&&&

An hour later, each article of clothing had been washed, dried, and folded, ready to be levitated back upstairs. The basket of laundry was hovering in front of him at the foot of the stairs, when he heard the fireplace in the lounge flare up. 

“Draco?.... Draco?” 

Draco set the basket down and walked through the kitchen to the lounge and sank into to the nearest armchair. Ginny’s head floated in the middle of the fireplace, her own scarlet tresses complementing the flames framing her head. 

“You rang?” Draco drawled.

“How’s everything going? Is Lyra alright? Did you get my note? What time are you going to Diagon Alley? Did the kids get their chores done?” Ginny rambled, unable to contain her curiosity. 

“Slow down, woman,” He laughed, before adding innocently. “What note?”

“What?” Ginny gaped. “I stuck it on your forehead before I left! How could you miss—”

She stopped when she saw Draco smirking, struggling to hold in his laughter as he watched Ginny grow very irritated with him. 

“Draco!” Ginny chastised, though she looked a little sheepish. 

“Yes, I got your note. What a wonderful wake up call.” 

“And?” 

“I… tossed it in the fire?” 

“What do you mean you ‘tossed it in the fire’?” she demanded. 

“Look, everything will be fine. The kids are nearly done cleaning their rooms, I’m about to bring the laundry up, and I’ll get everything done on the list,” Draco said soothingly. Well, almost everything.

He could tell she didn’t look quite convinced from the conflicted look on her face, so he decided to change the subject. “How are things going in Cardiff?” 

“They’re alright,” Ginny answered after a moment of pause. “We just got done with the large press conference with the Harpies owners had and then the gala is later tonight. I’m just going through my notes right now.”

“What’re you calling me for, then?” Draco chuckled. “You have several hours to yourself, child free? Go relax!” 

“But, the list—”

“Don’t worry about the list!” Draco replied. “Just have a good time, stop worrying, and I’ll see you tonight.” 

Ginny looked like she still wanted to protest but eventually relented, letting out a long sigh. “Alright. Just make sure the house is completely spotless for tomorrow.” 

Draco nodded. “I love you. Have a good time.” 

“Love you too.” 

&&&&&&&

It was sometime past one o’clock when they made their way outside, with Cecelia carrying Lyra several steps in front of them. Draco hung back with Lucas, who was eagerly trotting beside his father in an effort to keep up with his long legs. 

“Dad!” Lucas exclaimed excitedly, unconsciously pulling up his swimming trucks. “Dad, did you hear James got a real broomstick?! Hugo just owled me about it! And it’s a Firebolt model, too! When can we go over to Uncle Harry’s house?” 

Draco’s smile faltered a little bit, though it was more out of habit than anything else. “Lucas, he’s not your uncle.” 

“But Mum said to call him Uncle Harry,” Lucas explained, lifting his head up to meet Draco’s eyes. 

“Yes,” Draco sighed. “But, technically, he is not your uncle. He’s not related to your mother or me.” 

“But, Mum said he’s like a brother to her!” Lucas protested. 

“She may feel that way, but—”

“AND,” Lucas interrupted. “What about Uncle Blaise? He’s not related to you.” 

Draco sighed in frustration. The kid had a point. Who was he to confuse matters even more? Harry Potter, unfortunately, was a permanent fixture in his life. Their children’s ages overlapped, and he was as good a Weasley as Draco was now. They were present together at most, if not all, family functions. Harry had become that cousin you didn’t particularly like but you didn’t particularly hate either. He just didn’t go out of his way to talk to him, preferring the company of Ginny’s older brothers, Bill and Charlie. Draco on his part didn’t bother to make Harry’s life miserable anymore. He must be getting soft in his older age. 

“Why don’t you owl James to bring it over tomorrow?” Draco suggested. “He’s going to be coming tomorrow, anyway.” 

“Oh yeah!” Lucas shouted, his eyes lighting up. “I completely forgot!” 

Without another word, Lucas ran up to the pond, kicked off his slippers and dove in. Before any harm could be done, Draco quickly cast Anti-Drowning charms to the water so he could practice safely. He took Lyra from Cecelia’s arms and brought her over to the water, her little hand wrapped around two of his fingers as she awkwardly hobbled over. 

With Lucas practicing the latest stroke he learned last week and Lyra in his hands, cautiously dipping her foot in the water, only to shriek enthusiastically and retreat, Draco took a moment to turn towards the large tree. Cecelia evidently decided to pick up one of the books from the stack he had given her. While he was happy to see his daughter getting a head start on her studies, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if there was an ulterior motive. Was she trying to present herself as a mature person based on their discussion earlier that morning? Did she already know her mother was against the idea of having an enormous cat running amok in their house and was thus getting ready to butter up her father? Whatever her reasoning was, he just knew she would definitely get sorted into Slytherin in the fall. Draco could feel it in his bones. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Lyra splashed water on him with her propeller-like legs in the water. She clearly thought it was the funniest thing in the world and started giggling. Draco couldn’t resist laughing either, it was infectious. 

&&&&&&&

Eventually, Lyra tired, and Draco dried her with a spell. Summoning a blanket, they retreated to the shade and gently laid her down to rest. With a lazy smile, her blueish grey eyes slowly closed, her dark, long eyelashes resting against her round cheeks. 

_This was the life,_ Draco thought to himself as he looked up to see his other children attempting to catch the Snitch on their own broomsticks, chasing after each other and the ball. He knew Ginny would have been right up there with them if she was home, no doubt showing them how it’s done. Even his own mother would enjoy a day like this where she could have tea in the sun and garden. Narcissa would be coming tomorrow and be ecstatic to see the children, he smiled pensively. Life wasn’t always like this. 

If someone had told him twelve years ago that he would fall in love with Ginny Weasley, get married to her, have three children with her, and have a simple, content life he thoroughly enjoyed, Draco would have laughed in their face. Draco had first run into her again several years after school at a Quidditch event. His best mate, Blaise Zabini, was one of the owners of the Holyhead Harpies and had dragged him to the celebration party. He figured, why not? It was an all girls’ team, there was bound to be a fit and good looking one among them. Never in a million years did Draco think he would be so enchanted with little Ginny Weasley. 

In the beginning, Lucius and Narcissa were not exactly welcoming of Ginny, and neither were her parents of him. Eventually, both sets of parents came around after seeing how happy their children were. And his parents reluctantly agreed it wasn’t the most terrible match, after all, Ginny was a pureblood. But once the children were born, the Malfoys’ grandparent instincts took over and they didn’t regret anything for a single moment. 

It seemed that the running theme of Draco’s life was breaking tradition, he realized, as he got older. Marrying someone that would be considered beneath him according to his family broke tradition. Defying the Dark Lord and trying to establish a clean name for his family was breaking tradition. Even choosing not to live at Malfoy Manor was a break in tradition. Ginny and Draco decided to move to Wales because of her professional Quidditch career. Together, they had built the house piece by piece, deciding where to put the rooms, what materials for the floors they should get, and what colors to paint the rooms. Eventually, their quaint (according to Malfoy standards, anyway) three story Regency style home came together atop a hill near expansive greenery. The extended families made it work, visiting regularly, and they often visited England as well. It was hard not to with so many Weasley functions. 

Lucas whooped triumphantly, a glittering gold sphere clutched victoriously in his hand. Draco grinned as he looked on over at his children. While Ginny had filled the gaping hole in his heart that he hadn’t even realized was there, the kids had truly brought his life new meaning. It was both challenging and rewarding to bring kids into the world and to teach them how to be actual good, human beings. Ginny and Draco were by no means perfect (especially Draco), but he still wanted his children to be better than he was at their age. Especially at those ages. He was only so lucky to have Ginny as his partner in crime. 

Even when life seemed luxurious with his travels for the Department of Magical Cooperation, or mundane when he had to sit through numerous meetings in languages he didn’t always understand, the children always brought him back to reality. They were never enchanted or disgusted at the fact that he was Draco Malfoy, like many others he encountered day in and day out. He was just their father. It was always interesting looking at the world with their brand new eyes. His children were brilliant, funny, and creative. 

Other times, they were just plain weird. 

Draco chuckled to himself when he remembered the time Cecelia became obsessed with the chickens at the Burrow as a toddler. She would cautiously squat down and start to waddle with them. Ginny would try to encourage her to pluck up the courage to pet them, but she would only reluctantly put her hand out to touch the tips of their feather tails while standing as far away as she possibly could. While their daughter was outspoken, she still had a sense of self-preservation unlike her younger sister. Cecelia still maintained a fondness for the chickens today, though she would stubbornly deny the story each time they told it, her brows furrowing and her cheeks growing red.

Or how Lucas, who was more reserved than the girls, his nose often stuck in a book, but still had a wicked sense of humor. Lucas was exhibiting likely Ravenclaw traits since he was young, and both he and Ginny expected him to be sorted into that house. He would always somehow end up underneath his tall bed or underneath the dining room table, reading one of his many novels, writing thoughtfully in a journal, or doodling. Draco would never understand the fascination of crawling into the smallest corners of the house. Lucas’ room was incredibly large that he had more than enough space and a large backyard to run around in. Even so, he planned to surprise him with plans for a magical treehouse later in the year on his birthday. It could be a private reading space for Lucas and a fun father-son project to work on. It would be something so unlike his own father had done. While Lucius would shower his son with gifts, they didn’t spend as much time together as either of them liked during Draco’s childhood. 

Lyra made a cooing noise, startling Draco out of his thoughts. He reached over to gently rub her back, soothing her back to sleep. And then, there was Lyra his little princess, who had truly earned the title. She definitely knew that she was the youngest and tried to get everyone’s attention whenever she wanted it. Thankfully Lucas had gotten over no longer being the youngest fairly quickly, because it could have been a difficult adjustment. Lyra loved to pretend to cough in order to get her parents’ attention. However, she didn’t realize that her parents knew what was going on. After all, this was their third kid. Lyra was by far the most adventurous of his children at this age. This was on full display when they had visited the zoo last month. Draco would hand her food to feed the Abraxans, and she would forcefully shove her hands towards their mouths, only to scream when they actually took her offer. The mouths and tongues of the Abraxans both tickled and startled her each time she would feed one of them, though she bravely went on to feed the next animal undeterred. Though she was often rambunctious, he noticed that Lyra would always take time to collect herself, whether it was after eating a meal or when she was in the middle of playing, she would stare off into the distance for several moments, daydreaming. 

Kids were odd creatures.

&&&&&&&

A couple of hours later, Draco gathered the troops and they all returned inside. The sun had miraculously stayed out all day, but now left the sky with a stunning display of blue, purple, pink, and orange. He made sure the kids took their baths before carefully giving Lyra one. The flames in his office’s fireplace vanished once he had finished placing an order for a pizza. Ginny would want them to eat healthy, but it didn’t hurt to have a treat once in a while. Besides, he knew he couldn’t compete with is wife’s cooking: she blew him out of the Quidditch Pitch by kilometers. 

It was then that he realized that it was too quiet in his office. He had brought the cloud monitor with him, but couldn’t hear any baby noises. Panicked for the second time that day, Draco rushed to the nursery and didn’t see any familiar strawberry blonde anywhere. His stomach flopped while his heart pounded in his chest. He got down to his knees, looking underneath the crib, the rocking chair, behind the changing tables, and everywhere else he could think of. Lyra was simply nowhere to be found. 

Draco ran out to the corridor and called out to the other children. Cecelia was in charge of scouring the third floor while Lucas searched on the second. Draco flew down the two flights of stairs onto the main floor. It was then that he remembered that he could perform a simple locating spell. A purple arrow materialized in front of him, wavering as it pointed towards the kitchen. Once he arrived, however, the arrow pointed up. 

“Up?” Draco wondered out loud. “How in Salazar’s name is she up there?” 

He opened each cupboard with his wand and could find nothing save for pots, pans, and an assortment of food. He inched closer to the large cupboards near the refrigerator and the purple arrow began to blink rapidly. Draco opened the cupboard that was high up, one that he could only reach. The door swung wide open and he found Lyra sitting there, gurgling in happiness.

At first, Draco was just relieved to see that she was alright. Until he realized that she was filthy. Somehow, she had found the large jar of hazelnut spread that was supposed to be used for tomorrow’s birthday cake. Her arm was shoved into the jar, covered in chocolatey goodness up to her elbows. It was smeared across her face, her clothes, her legs, and even in her hair. Draco was astonished at how much damage she could do in such a short amount of time.

Lyra looked at her father and babbled at him cheerfully. Draco burst out laughing at the pure bliss on her face. How he wished he had a camera around! With a swish and flick, Draco levitated her down to his arms and pulled her close to him.

“Mummy isn’t going to be very happy, is she?” Draco asked her with a chuckle. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were hungry?”

Lyra grinned mischievously. 

“How did you know it was up there? Even I didn’t,” Draco asked as they headed back upstairs. That was true. If he had known there was an economy sized jar of hazelnut spread in their kitchen, he would have polished it off days ago. They were one in the same with their sweet tooths. Ginny was going to kill him when she found out. 

“Magic,” Lyra whispered as best as she could, bringing out her arms and placing her chubby, sticky, chocolate hands onto Draco’s face by the cheeks and pulling him close. 

&&&&&&&

The rest of the night was relatively peaceful. After giving Lyra yet another bath, they enjoyed their pizza in relative peace. Each child was tucked in with a book to read, and he read to Lyra until she finally drifted off to sleep. Draco made sure to apply protective spells over the crib; it wouldn’t do anyone good if she started wandering off into the night. 

By the time he had cleaned up the Nutella massacre in the kitchen it was past eleven o’clock. Draco went through the motions of a shower and quickly pulled on his pajamas and a jumper. Though it had been warm in the day, it was quickly growing chilly as night fell. He drew the curtains to a close and stoked the fire until it warmed up the room. 

Just as his platinum blond head hit the pillow, Draco heard crying noises over the cloud monitor. The fluffy, white mass began to turn grey, as if ink was running onto a wet cotton ball. He sighed for a minute before pulling on his robe and slippers. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Draco murmured, lifting Lyra out of the crib and into his arms. She continued to wail tiredly, clearly perturbed by the fact that she wasn’t asleep any longer. The wind was beginning to howl outside, and Draco figured that that was what woke her up. He paced up and down the room for a while, bouncing her in his arms and rubbing her back. That didn’t work. He sat down tiredly in the rocking chair and tried to rock her to sleep.

Half an hour later, and nothing was working. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and she was definitely not sick. Exhaustion was overcoming Draco as he yawned for the fourth time. He knew this wasn’t a good idea as they didn’t like to mess with their children’s sleeping routines, but Draco grabbed a book from her little bookshelf and they walked over to the master bedroom. 

Draco placed her in the bed beside him, securing her with pillows on all sides and carefully tucking her in. Before he knew it, both of them drifted off to sleep, the book still in his hands. 

&&&&&&&

Less than an hour later, Draco felt a shaking on his arm. First he looked over to Lyra, who was sleeping soundly. Turning to his other side, he saw Lucas in Falmouth Falcons pajamas, his red-orange hair sticking in several directions, vigorously shaking his arm.

“Dad! Dad! Da-ad!” Lucas whispered, almost too loudly to be a whisper. 

“What is it?” Draco croaked, his voice already hoarse from exhaustion and sleep. 

Before Lucas was able to answer, a bolt of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a faint clap of thunder. 

“Can I please sleep here tonight, please?” Lucas pleaded. 

Draco ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He was too tired to persuade his son to go to bed. Besides, no one liked thunderstorms.

“Alright,” Draco conceded, scooting over to the middle to make way for Lucas. 

It felt like his eyes just shut when he heard the door quietly click open. Draco raised his head and saw through bleary eyes a blonde figure standing reluctantly in the doorway. Rubbing his eyes clear, he realized that it was Cecelia in her purple nightgown, wringing the cloth of her garment in her hand. 

“You’re here to make sure the little kids are okay, right?” Draco asked knowingly. 

“Of course,” she sniffed, jutting out her chin and holding her head high. “I’m eleven, I’m not scared.”

Just then, another lightening bold hit the sky, only this time it was accompanied by a crashing, loud roll of thunder. Cecelia squeaked, and ran over to the bed, all pretenses forgotten. She wiggled her way in, hopping over her brother and managed to stick herself next to Draco. He looked down at her with an amused look on her face and put a protective arm around her, until everyone finally drifted off to sleep.

&&&&&&&

Ginny Weasley popped into her bedroom sometime after two in the morning. Still wearing her long black dress with her flaming chignon and smoky eyes, she cast aside her cloak onto the nearest armchair. When her eyes on the bed, it took everything within her to not laugh at the sight before her. 

Draco was stuck right in the middle of the large bed, looking like he was unable to move. Lyra took up one half of the bed between the moat of pillows that surrounded her. Cecelia was laying diagonally, her head on her father’s chest, arms wrapped around him, and her feet were awkwardly wedged under Lucas. And somehow, Lucas’ feet were towards the pillow while his head was at the foot of the bed. Everyone looked tired but in a deep slumber as chests rose and fell. 

With a warm smile, she slipped off her heels and tiptoed her way to the walk-in wardrobe, carefully carrying all over her belongings. One of her shoes wriggled free from her grasp and hit the floor louder than she anticipated. Ginny winced and looked over to the bed. None of the children moved, but she saw Draco’s eyes slowly open and he gave her a bleary smile. 

“Don’t get up,” Ginny whispered, but Draco ignored her, sitting up in bed. Somehow he managed to wrestle himself out of Cecelia’s death grip, replacing himself with one of the many pillows on the bed. 

Draco walked over to her, and her brown eyes twinkled at the sight before her. His hair was in utter disarray. He had on grey pajama bottoms paired with a navy blue knitted jumper that had a white D emblazoned on the front. Even years later, she still felt that little gallop in her stomach when he would look at her with his stunning grey eyes or flash her one of his genuine smiles. He may have gotten a little older, as evident by the laugh lines around his eyes whenever he would laugh, or his silvery-blonde locks that were starting to fade to grey, but he was still as handsome as ever. 

“How did things go tonight?” Draco asked quietly, so as not to wake up the kids. He came closer to her, pulling Ginny closer when his arms found their place around her waist. 

“It was fine. Just the usual, boring gala,” Ginny replied in a low tone. “I met the woman they keep hailing as the next Ginny Weasley.”

“Did you?” Draco raised his eyebrows. “The leggy brunette?” 

“Yes,” Ginny’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Can you believe she just had a child three weeks ago and you can’t even tell? It’s unreal,” she pouted. 

“She does look pretty fantastic. You did give her my Floo coordinates, yeah?” Draco smirked, teasing her. 

Ginny didn’t say anything but unlinked her arms that were around his neck to smack him on the shoulder. “I would punish you but it looks like you had a long day as it is,” Ginny motioned towards the kids. 

“Yes it was,” Draco admitted. “Did you know that CeCe is writing to a boy?”

“So?” Ginny chuckled at Draco’s astonishment. “What are you concerned about? Are you already worried about her dating?” 

“Not exactly,” Draco paused. “I know she won’t suffer any fools, but she’s still too young!” 

“If you recall, I had a massive crush around her age as well,” Ginny smirked. 

“And thank Merlin you grew out of that phase,” Draco retorted. “Or we wouldn’t be here today.” 

They both shared a reflective smile. 

“How did the rest of the day go? Did you get all of the errands done?” Ginny inquired. 

“Not exactly…” Draco trailed off. “I’ll have to break it to CeCe later about the cat, I just couldn’t take her to the store. I didn’t take Lucas to swimming class since we have a pond that he can swim in for free and I spent quality time with Lyra instead.” 

“Draco!” Ginny chastised. “He was supposed to master the breast stroke today!” 

“Oh, he did that,” Draco replied with pride. “He got the athletic genes from me.” 

“And me,” Ginny cut in. 

“Yes, I suppose you too,” Draco grinned, his eyes raking over her. It still made her blush to this day, although thankfully she didn’t turn beet red anymore. 

“And Lyra was supposed to work on comprehension skills in class,” Ginny said a minute later, her voice coming out hoarse. 

“Got that done too,” Draco answered smoothly with a mischievous grin. “She was pointing out the words and even said some of them. She can say Slytherin, and Potions, and Head Girl, and…” 

Ginny turned her head to see an emerald green children’s book on the nightstand next to Draco’s wand. Ginny rolled her eyes but smirked knowingly before turning back to her husband. 

“Were you reading _‘S is for Slytherin’_ again?” 

“What? No.” 

“The Hat is going to decide their fates, we can’t push our views on them.” 

“Says the woman who had her mother knit Lucas a Gryffindor baby blanket complete with a lion that actually roars.” 

“I just want them to see both sides, that’s all.” 

“Lyra probably will end up as a Gryffindor, though,” Draco said reluctantly, much to her surprise. “She keeps crawling out of her crib and I found her eating the jar of Nutella.” 

“What?!” Ginny’s eyes bugged. “How did she get up there?” 

“I think this was her first display of magic,” Draco beamed proudly. 

“But she’s so young!” Ginny exclaimed, turning to look at their little girl, still sleeping soundly. “How did all of this happen in the course of a day?! I missed everything!” 

“There are still plenty of firsts to come,” Draco promised, bringing his lips to her temple in an effort to calm her down. 

“I suppose so…” Ginny replied, not quite convinced. “I can’t believe CeCe’s first day of Hogwarts will be in a matter of weeks.” 

Draco yawned, and loosened his grip around her, but locked his hand with hers. “Let’s go to bed, Gin. We’re going to have to be up early tomorrow, anyway.” 

He turned to lead them towards the bed, but Ginny stood her ground, tugging on his hand. 

“What?” He looked at her questioningly. 

“I forgot one thing,” Ginny began, closing the gap between them, snaking her arms around his neck. She stood on her tip toes, bringing her face close to his, just until their lips were brushing against each other. 

“Happy Birthday, Draco Malfoy.” 

&&&&&&&

 **A/N:** Hope you enjoyed! I’m still not sure why I wrote a fic with kids in it since I find them really challenging, but I like how it turned out! Hope you all enjoyed it as well. :) Fun facts for their names: Cecelia  & Lucas are derived from Arthurian names (Caelia/Celia and Lucan) and Lyra is a constellation. I thought it’d be fun to have an homage to both of their family naming traditions! Anyway, I would greatly appreciate a review if you took the time to read this fluffy one-shot. Thanks!


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